Tragedy in China Town?
by XoxStrifexoX
Summary: "Tragedy in New York City's China Town." "Grave news this evening in Manhattan," the reporter started; her face highlighted by the flashes of red and blue lights in the background and the bright bulb of the camera. Her face flat as she spoke again into the microphone, contradicting the empathetic tone in her voice.


Tragedy in China Town? XoxStrifexoX Summary: "Tragedy in New York City's China Town." "Grave news this evening in Manhattan," the reporter started; her face highlighted by the flashes of red and blue lights in the background and the bright bulb of the camera. Her face flat as she spoke again into the microphone, contradicting the empathetic tone in her voice. "Two men from Albany; Eren Yeager and Jean Kirschtein of Delmar, New York were found today in the China town subway. Tragic victims of a random encounter gone wrong. When the suspect was questioned as to his motive he had this to say, 'Dey ain't know bout' the five 'o'; so dey got pierced.' At least, in my mind, that was where I saw this story ending up. As another two minute slot on the six o'clock news. There's nothing very reassuring about a grown man; looking like he just crawled his way out of the sewers; approaching us while going off in bizarre tangents. But perhaps, to clarify, we should start at the beginning. Notes: fun fact - this actually happened to my friend and I when we went to the city and well... It's a fun story I like to share ~ Scary at the time but hilarious after ^_^ Enjoy!

Work Text:

"Tragedy in New York City's China Town."

"Grave news this evening in Manhattan," the reporter started; her face highlighted by the flashes of red and blue lights in the background and the bright bulb of the camera. Her face flat as she spoke again into the microphone, contradicting the empathetic tone in her voice.

"Two men from Albany; Eren Yeager and Jean Kirschtein of Delmar, New York were found today in the China town subway. Tragic victims of a random encounter gone wrong. When the suspect was questioned as to his motive he had this to say, 'Dey ain't know bout' the five 'o'; so dey got pierced.'

At least, in my mind, that was where I saw this story ending up. As another two minute slot on the six o'clock news. There's nothing very reassuring about a grown man; looking like he just crawled his way out of the sewers; approaching us while going off in bizarre tangents. But perhaps, to clarify, we should start at the beginning.

Jean and I intended on seeing a concert of one of our favorite Japanese rock artists in the Big Apple. In an unfortunate turn of events, after purchasing hotel reservations and bus tickets the concert was cancelled. With the reservations made we ultimately decided to make a day out of it. There was no sense in wasting the time off from work, and we had been looking forward to the trip for a while. When we first arrived we wandered about Time Square before deciding to visit China Town to hit up the bakeries and boba tea shops in the area. After wasting a few hours binging and loading our bags on everything from custard buns, mochi, takoyaki and onigiri; we headed back to the hotel near central park.

Upon descending down the stairs to the subway train a soft melody played from a foreign string instrument. An older Asian male sat with his instrument, case open in front of him filled sparsely of bills and coins. Finding a spot against the wall we stood quietly and continued to listen to the soft chords play while we waited. I had taken a brief glance around the small section of tunnel which only revealed a small handful of people. A couple standing far off to each side, others sitting apart on the two benches, and a stray individual pacing around impatiently. No one seemingly noteworthy, and oh how wrong I had been. Not even a couple minutes since we found our place to wait for the train did a loud voice make its way toward us. Our eyes simultaneously shot forward at the approaching individual who began speaking a chorus of the same line repeatedly.

"I like your look; I like your look; I like your look; I… Like… Your... Look, " he annunciated as he moved to stand just a very uncomfortable twelve inch gap.

At first I wasn't too weary of his approach. Between the two of us, we both had purple and turquoise hair and lip piercings; we had already drawn a lot of attention and subsequently have had numerous people come up to us to comment or ask questions. I nodded with a small smile and thanked him quickly. At the time I was hoping he would lose interest in furthering the conversation. However, my hope went unfulfilled.

"Yeh, Yeh, Yeh, Yeh. I like it. Yeh. I like it. I like your look. It's cool. I can't be doing that. It ain't ma thing. I don't do piercing. I don't do that. But yeh. Yeh. I like your look."

I can't tell you at this point how hard it was for me not to let my eyebrows rise into my hairline. While he continued to reiterate that he 'liked our look' I took that moment to glance this guy over. Head to toe he was filthy. His jacket, pants, and boots appeared to have taken a beating. Everything from Rips and tears; scuff marks and loose seams; littered his clothing. It didn't take too long to then notice his glassy eyes or his wild gestures. At this point I had spared a glance at my friend to realize he too was drawing similar conclusions from him once over. This guy was either a bum really off his rocker or someone with a bad drug habit. To further my suspicion he quickly changed topics.

"Yeh, Yeh. I don't do piercing; nah I don't do that. You know what I do," he asked and before I could answer he started hitting his chest and slapping his arms, "I fight. That's what I do. I fight. Yeh. That's why I gotta keep an eye out for the five 'o'. Yeh. They be watching me; e'specially when I be talking to pretty girls. You know the five 'o'? I know you know the five 'o'; you know the five 'o' right?"

Now, at this point in my mind all I could think was this guy was trying to sell me something. He certainly seemed like the type to deal and I truly had no clue as to what he meant by the five 'o'. I then expressed that I in fact did not know what the five 'o' was only for him to insist I had to know. He proceeded to tell me that if I didn't know then surely my mother or grandmother would know. 'Your moms would know' he said 'Your mom's mom would know' he continued. After again insisting that I did not know what it was he finally tossed his hands in the air, in what seemed like mock disbelief, and explained that it was a TV series about the police; The Hawaiian Five 'O'. Though he remembered the show and reference he threw out random dates that he thought it had been on the air.

"It was on TV in the sixties; nyah the eighties; yeh, yeh. Nah the seventies. Your mom's would know."

"Ah," I said as if I had reached enlightenment, "I honestly had no clue."

"Yeh," he said as he glanced around, "Yeh, I know you had your run in with them too.  
You've been arrested; yeh. You been arrested."

"Actually," I drawled out, "I've never been arrested. Looks can be decieving," I assured him.

He gave me a strange look but didn't dwell on it instead he moved on to focus on Eren, "Yeh, I gotta watch my back. They watchin' me so I gotta watch for dem. You watching my back Melrose? You watching my back," he kept asking him over and over again.

I almost slammed my palm to my face when he bent to the side to look behind them before standing upright again to confirm that indeed there was no one behind him. Had the situation been different I would have most like laughed at his obedient antics. As he continued to speak to him, he grew pensive with him referring to him as Melrose, and rightfully so since it was completely strange. When he asked why he kept calling him Melrose he responded with, "You know; Melrose; 90250."

As the time passed we grew more anxious. No matter how clipped our responses he just kept talking to us. Glancing around the tunnel we were getting brief glances of sympathy, but not one person let their eyes linger. Being from New York myself I inwardly groaned; who was I kidding? These people wouldn't bother to help me if I was being mugged inches away from them; let alone being badgered by some insane homeless looking man. It didn't take long for him to pick up on our wandering and growingly nervous glances towards each other and the effect seemed instantaneous. His shoulders squared and his jaw tightened; lips pressed in a fine line.

"What you lookin' at him? Why you keep lookin' at him for? You got a problem wit me talking? Yeh, Yeh, Yeh, whatever that cool, that cool. You like piercings so much, huh, yeh?"

At this point he jolted slightly forward in what was supposed to be some testosterone driven show of confrontation and barked out, "Well I'll pierce you! I'll pierce you!"

At this point all I could do was stand my ground and step in front of my friend. The cogs in my mind turning out headlines for scenarios of being 'pierced' by a random druggy in the subway. All headlines were discarded as the screech of the train came echoing through the tunnel. Just as abruptly as he made his entrance he exited to the train leaving us to let out a sigh of relief.

Needless to say we waited for the next train to take us back to central park. Eventually, we finally made it back to the hotel, without any further incident and enjoyed the next day of our stay before heading home. With our bags filled with goodies and a quite remarkable story to tell everyone at home.


End file.
